Vacation
by Lady Ainwen
Summary: Yohji's vacation is unexpectedly ruined when Schuldig shows up. Or is it? Rated R for Yaoi content. Please r&r.
1. Getting There

*Author's note* Yohji-kins and SchuSchu and the rest of Weiss and Schwartz (being all the non-important members) are not mine.  I cry.  The rest of the characters, however, are mine…or else they belong to my friends and are used with permission.  Please r&r.  Thankies.  

Yohji checked his ticket again as he stepped onto the plane that would take him far away from all his cares, and straight into the peaceful beauty of luscious New Zealand.  Or anyway, that's what the travel brochure had said.  

He must have been one of the last to board, since most of the other passengers already seemed to have made themselves comfortable for the flight.  Such as the man who's long, outstretched legs now blocked Yohji from getting to his seat.  The man's head was dropped forward onto his chest, so all Yohji could make out was a thick, shaggy mop of red hair.  

`At least I won't have to worry about any annoying conversation,' he thought to himself, running his fingers through his hair as he contemplated his next move.  Stowing his bag in the overhead compartment, which was already overrun with what he guessed to be the other man's belongings, he cautiously attempted to step over his sleeping seat-mate.  Unfortunately, his foot caught on the other man's knee, and he was sent sprawling across his seat and into the window beside it.  "Please excuse me," he said, sitting down and rubbing his bruised shoulder.  

To his surprise, the other man didn't even move.  A sudden thought flashed across his mind.  `That's all I need, is for them to sit me next to a dead guy.  As if I don't get enough of them at work,'  

"Are -- are you okay?" he asked, poking at the man's shoulder.  

"I'm fine," came the response, drawled in a thick German accent, "Leave me alone.  I just want to get some peace and qui…"  The man trailed off as he lifted his head and realized who he was talking to.  

Yohji nearly jumped out of his seat when he recognized the German, Schuldig.  

"YOU!" both men cried.  They simultaneously dived for the button to summon the flight attendant.  

A cheerful young woman approached them, and she smiled sweetly, saying, "Good afternoon, gentlemen!  My name is Tora, and I'll be your attendant on this flight.  How can I help you?"  Both men were silent for a moment, glaring at each other, and then both started into it at once.  

"There's been a mistake…" Yohji started.  

"…you see, the two of us…" Schuldig continued.  

"…we can't sit together…" 

"…so if there's any other seats…"  

"…I'd like to move." both of them finished.  

The attendant looked at them a moment, then smiled again and said, "I'm sorry, there are no more seats available.  Now if you could both please fasten your seatbelts, the plane will be taking off momentarily.  Have a nice flight!"  She walked off cheerfully down the aisle.  

Yohji growled as he buckled himself in, while Schuldig muttered something in German that didn't sound very polite.  

Just as the attendant had said, the plane started moving down the runway.  Yohji glanced out the window, and caught the reflection of Schuldig making faces behind him.  He turned around, but the German was sitting back, with his arms behind his head and his eyes closed.  Yohji scowled, and turned back to the window.  Again, there was Schuldig's reflection, only this time, it was making a rather obscene gesture.  

"All right, cut it out!" Yohji said to the German, who was again reclining beside him.  Schuldig looked at him innocently, or as innocent as he could possibly look, anyway.  "Look," Yohji sighed, "I don't know what business you have in New Zealand, or wherever it is that you're going, but I'm on vacation.  So I'd really appreciate it if you'd just let me enjoy it."  He leaned back against his seat, crossing his arms over his chest.  

"You want to enjoy _your_ vacation!" Schuldig whined, "What about _my_ vacation!  You've already ruined it.  I'm not working on this trip, you know."  He reclined his chair further, much to the annoyance of the passenger behind him.  

"Yeah, well, you're no ray of sunshine on my trip, either," Yohji sulked.  Thankfully, the plane was picking up speed, and the ground suddenly left them.  As they climbed higher, Yohji suddenly thought of something.  "Hey, Mastermind, shouldn't you put your seatbelt on?"

As if on cue, the plane banked to the side, just as a burst of turbulence struck and sent Schuldig bouncing off of his seat and almost onto Yohji's lap.  Yohji snickered as the German attempted to right himself, Schuldig glaring at him all the while.  

"You saw _nothing_, Kudoh!" the German hissed, looking around and wiping the memory of the incident from everyone around them.  Yohji rolled his eyes.  "You saw nothing," Schuldig pressed, "Or else I'll tell everyone…"  

Schuldig paused for a moment, and Yohji could feel him rummaging through his thoughts.  He squirmed, desperately trying to keep the telepath out.  

Finally, Schuldig flashed a smile, triumphant.  "I'll tell them you still wet your pants in the third grade."  

Yohji's face went white, then a deep red.  "I saw nothing," he whispered.

Soon, the plane levelled off and they found themselves soaring smoothly thousands of feet off the ground.  "Wow, would you look at that," Yohji murmured to himself, gazing down through the clear sky at the shores of Japan melting into the deep blue sea.  

Schuldig glanced over at the window, but did not look out.  "Yeah, wonderful," he replied, his tone slightly sarcastic.  Yohji eyed him carefully for a moment, but the German was staring straight ahead.  He seemed to be a few shades paler than Yohji remembered.  

Yohji laughed as he realized what was going on.  "You're afraid of flying!" he exclaimed, pleased with himself for finding a weakness in the German.  That at least meant that Schuldig was still human.  

"No, I'm not," Schuldig said slowly.  

"Then come look out the window," Yohji prodded, "Just one little peek."  

"I don't feel like it," The red-head replied.  

"Because you're scared."  Yohji leaned his elbow on the armrest between them and rested his chin in his palm, smirking.  

"I AM NOT AFRAID OF FLYING!" Schuldig shrieked, leaping to his feet in the aisle.  There was a silence as all the passengers turned their eyes towards him.  He gave a nervous laugh as he slowly sat back down, thoroughly wiping the memories of everyone on board the entire plane.  But, as usual, Yohji found some way to resist him.  "You know, Kudoh," Schuldig whispered, "It would make my life so much easier if you would just stop being so pig-headed and let me wipe your mind from time to time."  

"And forget the look on your face?" Yohji laughed, "No way."

Schuldig let loose another string of German expletives and scowled at the back of the chair in front of him.

                        *                                  *                                  *

The rest of the flight passed in relative peace, compared to how the two of them normally interacted, and a few hours -- and a few more mind-wipes -- later, they entered New Zealand airspace.  "Finally, I can get off this stinking plane," Schuldig stretched his arms, relieved.  

"Mm-hmm," Yohji replied, engrossed in the in-flight movie.  He'd seen this one before; it was a real tear-jerker.  On the screen, the hunky-high-school-football-hero was reuniting with the pretty-but-dorky love of his life after they each crossed half the country searching for each other.  He smiled as the two kissed, and the credits started to roll.  Suddenly, he remembered the man sitting beside him.  

Schuldig was staring at him as though Yohji had just sprouted horns.  "I was just, I mean…" Yohji tried lamely to come up with some sort of explanation.  

"Save it, Kudoh," the German responded, "I don't think I really want to know.  I already know too much…"  He looked distant, yet terrified, as though he'd just received a thought he _really_ didn't want.  

"Oh, shut up," Yohji muttered, giving the other a sucker-punch in the arm.  

"Ow!" Schuldig cried, rubbing the spot, "That wasn't fair!  I was distracted."  

His whining was interrupted by an announcement from one of the flight attendants; the one they'd met earlier, from the cheerful sound of her voice.  "Ladies and gentlemen," she started, "I'm afraid there's been a delay at the Wellington International Airport, so this plane will be unable to land until it is cleared.  We will keep you informed of any changes when they occur.  We apologize again for this delay.  Thank you!"  

"Oh, how nice!" Schuldig said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "They apologize to us!  That makes everything better, then."  He sat sullenly for a while.  

Yohji wondered how this turn of events would affect his hotel booking.  He'd been lucky to be able to book the most luxurious suite in the fanciest hotel on the waterfront.  It had cost a fortune, and he'd had to book it six months in advance, but it was going to be worth it.  He was already imagining the sunset on the harbour, some wine, soft music…

Schuldig shifted beside him.  "Hey, Kudoh," he said, trying to sound casual, "A completely unrelated question to what's going on: how much fuel do you think they put in these things?"  

Yohji sighed and leaned his head against the window, hoping the delay would be cleared quickly.


	2. Checking In

*Author's note* Yay!  I have created another chapter.  I apologize for the formatting of this story, but my computer doesn't like me.  I suspect that it is cheating on me with that cute little Pentium next door.  Oh well.  Again, I weep that Yohji and Schuldig are not mine.  Perhaps, someday…but no.  It is not meant to be.  Please r&r!

Yohji relaxed, savouring the peace and quiet of the taxi.  The plane had landed, only forty-five minutes late, and the hotel had assured him that his room would be held.  And now that that whiny, irritating German was gone on his own merry way, Yohji was free to enjoy the rest of his vacation.  Four weeks on the gorgeous waterfront, hitting all the clubs, meeting all the beautiful people.  He was busy contemplating whether or not he would try surfing, when the taxi rolled to a stop in front of a large, elegant looking hotel.  Yohji thanked the cabbie and tossed him what he hoped would cover the ride.

Once he was settled in, meaning it looked as though his suitcases had exploded all over the room, he decided to give Omi a call.  The kid had told him to call as soon as he got in, which was supposed to be over an hour ago.  He waited patiently as the operator dialled him through.  

Finally, he heard Ken's voice answer the phone.  "Hello?"  

"Ken-kun!" Yohji exclaimed, "Miss me yet?"  Yohji guessed that Ken was rolling his eyes at that.  

"Oh, you left?" came the response.  Omi could be heard in the background, asking who was calling during dinner.  

"Put the chibi on, will ya?" Yohji said.  

It sounded as though the phone was ripped out of Ken's hand, and Omi came on with a worried-sounding, "Yohji?  Are you okay?"  

"I'm great, Omittchi," he replied, choosing to leave out the run-in with Schuldig on the plane.  Omi was worried about him enough already.  

"You said you would be landing at six…"  A pause.  "That was over an hour ago!  What happened?" Omi demanded.  

"Oh, you know how things are," Yohji said casually, "Delays, that sort of thing.  But I'm in now, You've got the number for my room if you need me, and now I'm going out to get a head-start on this vacation of mine.  Talk to you later!"  

He hung up before Omi could grill him on anything else.  Leaving things out of a conversation was easy, but he couldn't outright lie to the kid.  And besides, how could he possibly explain that he had seen Schuldig, been sitting _next_ to him, and let him live.  Yohji would never hear the end of it.  

`Well, at least my boss isn't psychic,' he thought to himself, `Let's see Mastermind talk his way out of this one!' 

With that, he grabbed his jacket, pulled his hair back into a ponytail, and headed out to get a scope on the nightlife in the area.

                        *                                  *                                  *

Schuldig couldn't believe it.  "What?" he cried, trying not to fry the manager's brain for what was happening.  

"I'm sorry, sir, but your room has already been given to someone else," the man said, "As I have explained to you already, if you had called us to let us know your flight was delayed, we could have held it for you."  

"You're trying to make this sound like it's my fault!" Schuldig yelled.  

The manager, looking quite exasperated by this point, offered, "Sir, if you'd like to use our phone, we'd be more than happy to find you somewhere else to stay.  I'm sure there's an available room somewhere in this city,"  

"I see what you're doing," Schuldig said, quieter now, "You just want to get rid of me!  Fine, then.  Have it your way.  I don't need your help."  He spat the last word at the manager, spun on his heel, and stalked out of the hotel.  

Walking down the sidewalk, he shoved his hands into his pocket, cursing the whole stupid city.  The sun had gone down, and the sky was getting dark.  A cool wind came in off the water.  He was starting to wonder what he would do for the night when he rounded a corner and saw a pub a little ways down.  `Might as well,' he thought.  

He slipped in the door, the pounding music and smoky atmosphere reminding him at once of home.  "I guess a pub's a pub, no matter where you go," he muttered to himself.  He glanced around.  There were a few couples sitting in booths on one side, a decent sized dance floor at the back was crowded with people, and sitting at the bar…a familiar blonde.  He had his back to the door, and was watching the people on the dance floor.  Schuldig smiled to himself as he slipped onto the stool beside him.

                        *                                  *                                  *

Yohji scowled as he watched the mass of bodies writhing on the dance floor.  He had been here for well over an hour, and no one had even looked his way.  `Nothing like home,' he thought.  He was about to order another drink when he felt a shiver run up his spine, as though he were being watched.  Or hunted.  He turned slowly on his stool to look over his shoulder.  

He nearly screamed when he found himself face to face with Schuldig, who was wearing his patented lopsided grin.  "What the hell are you doing here?" Yohji asked, his scowl deepening to a frown.  

"I like to drink," Schuldig offered, turning to lean his back against the bar, "What more can I say?"  He motioned for the barkeep to bring them two drinks.  

"You could start with why you chose to walk into _this_ bar, of all places," Yohji said dryly.  

"I happened to be in the neighbourhood." Schuldig replied.  

The barkeep brought their drinks, and much to Schuldig's surprise, Yohji knocked his back with a curt, "Thanks."  

"You're welcome," Schuldig mused, the wheels in his head starting to turn.  Cautiously, he began to press Yohji's mind.  He was surprised again to find how easily it gave way.  "You've been here a while, Kudoh?" he asked, withdrawing for the moment from Yohji's mind.  He'd already gathered all he needed to know.  

"Yeah, so?"  Yohji was obviously not in the mood for talking.  Schuldig raised his hands defensively.  They both sat silently for a minute, Yohji wondering what the German was up to, and Schuldig wondering how far he could press his luck with the blonde.  

Schuldig ordered another round for the two of them, and after Yohji knocked his back, Schuldig made his move.  He reached his arm around Yohji's shoulders and pulled him in close, so that the other man's ear was right beside his lips.  "Dance with me," he whispered.  

Yohji pulled back, his eyes trying to focus in on the German's face.  "Why would I want to do that?" he asked, wishing that he hadn't had that last drink.  Everything was getting fuzzy, and he almost felt like saying yes to the red-head's request, or command, or whatever it had been.  

"Come on," Schuldig said, grabbing Yohji by the arm and dragging him to the very back corner of the dance floor, "You've been sulking here all night, waiting for someone to make your night interesting, and here I am.  Are you saying that you'd rather be sitting alone at the bar right now?"  

Now that he was up on his feet, and he could feel the music around him, Yohji _didn't_ feel like being alone.  And hell, Schuldig was right; he'd take what company he could get right now.  And besides, the German was a pretty good dancer.  

`He's sorta hot, too,' Yohji found himself thinking.  Immediately, he tried to shake the thought from his mind.  `What?  No.  Mastermind.  Enemy.  Bad.  Still hot.'  Evidently, the thought didn't want to leave.  

Schuldig tried not to listen as Yohji continued babbling to himself, but he couldn't stop a grin from forming.  Luckily, he was behind the blonde now, so he didn't notice. 

Yohji was almost completely caught up in the music now, and between the pounding of the bass and the amount of alcohol he'd ingested, he began to feel a bit light-headed.  He leaned back, finding himself supported by a firm chest and strong arms.  For a moment, he almost forgot who he had been dancing with.  

Schuldig turned him around gently and steadied him on his feet.  "You know, Kudoh," he said, his grin starting to peek through again, "I think you've had too much to drink.  Let's take you home."  Yohji thought about this a minute, then nodded.  

Schuldig looped his arm around Yohji's waist, and a few minutes later, they were at the door of his room.  "Thanks for the help," Yohji mumbled as he fumbled with his keys.  

"You sure you'll be okay?" Schuldig asked, "Maybe I should come in," There was just a hint of persuasion in his tone.  

Yohji paused.  "Okay," he shrugged, opening the door and stumbling inside.  

Schuldig closed the door behind him, sliding the lock into place.  Taking a look around, he thought to himself, `Too easy.'

  



	3. Pretty Please?

*Author's note* Although I'm trying to gain custody, or at least visitation rights, Yohji-kins and SchuSchu still do not belong to me.  Oh, and those other boys don't either, but that's ok.  I don't want them anyways.  P  Thankies to Wyte Choklate for reviewing, and don't worry, I think this is going the way you think it is going…I think.  I just like taking a little while to get there.  ^_^  Also, I have fixed the formatting problem, so everything's peachy.

Yohji awoke with a splitting headache.  He vaguely remembered something about drinks, dancing, and that hot red-headed German…

Forgetting his hangover, Yohji sat bolt upright in bed.  "Shiiiit…" he moaned, pressing his hand to his forehead.  But no, the pain didn't matter.  He swung himself out of bed, and stumbled out to the living room of his suite.  He had to find out if it had been real.

There, sprawled out on the couch, was Schuldig.  Yohji moaned again and retreated back to the bedroom, sitting down to think about what he should do next.  

The German knew where he was staying now.  But then again, it was possible he had known before.  Besides, hadn't he said he was on vacation, too?  Or had he been lying?  Calming down, he thought of something.  `If he'd wanted to kill me, I'd be dead already.'  

"Unless I wanted something from you first," came the voice from the doorway.  

Yohji sighed and dropped his head into his hands.  "What do you want?"  He figured the only way to ever get rid of the man was to find out what he was after.  

Schuldig sat himself down beside Yohji on the bed and pretended to think.  "Hmmm, how to name it," he mused.  Yohji lifted his head to glare at him.  Schuldig just laughed.  "Let's say: companionship."

"Companionship?" Yohji repeated, trying to make some sort of sense of the German's request.

"Sure," the red-head answered, lying back onto Yohji's pillow with his hands under his head, "We're both strangers in this country, right?  Wouldn't it be nice to have a familiar face around?"  

Yohji got the feeling that there was somehow more to this.  "Yeah, I'd love to have a familiar face around," he said slowly.  

Schuldig's face brightened.  

"If it was anyone but Schwartz." he finished, "What do you really want?" 

Schuldig sighed and got to his feet.  He began pacing, and Yohji got the feeling that he was going over something important in his mind.  Finally, he stopped in front of him and took a deep breath.  "CanIstaywithyou?" he blurted out.  

Yohji looked confused.  "What?"  

Schuldig tried again.  "Can I _please_ stay with you?" He sounded out every word carefully, to Yohji's disbelieving ears.  

The blonde looked up at him, gave him a good, hard once-over, and burst out laughing.  "You can't be serious!  You think that _I_ would let _you_ stay here?  You must be insane!"

Schuldig lunged forward, effectively pinning Yohji to the mattress.  All traces of laughter were gone, and the blonde glared up at him with green eyes so cold, they could almost be described as icy.  "Look," the German snarled, "I'm dead serious about needing a place to stay, but I don't take too kindly to being called crazy."  

As suddenly as he had sprung, he let go and stood up again.  "I just figured that maybe you wouldn't mind," his voice was calm again, although his usual cocky air was missing, "I don't know about you, but I thought we got along pretty well yesterday.  Maybe it was just my imagination, though," He turned and went back out to the living room, leaving Yohji staring up at the ceiling, thought after thought tumbling about in his mind.  

The lock on the door clicked, and Yohji heard the German call back to him, "If you change your mind, just let me know."  

The door slammed, and Yohji rolled to his side, burying his face in his pillow.  It smelled like Schuldig.  Flinging the pillow across the room, he got up and made his way to the small kitchen.  His headache seemed to be worse.  

He put on the coffee and slowly lowered himself into one of the chairs at the table.  A thought suddenly struck him.  "He never gave me a number!" he said aloud to himself, "Even if I did change my mind, which I _won't_, because he _wasn't_ serious, I couldn't call him anyways!"  Yohji stretched, happy that he had one less worry for the day.

                        *                                  *                                  *

What if he was serious?  

Yohji sat in the small café with his third cup of coffee.  He'd already finished all the coffee he had back in his hotel room, and the headache persisted.  He figured at least part of it was caused by that one nagging little thought.  The German had looked pretty serious that morning, and, truth be told, they _had_ gotten along fairly well on the flight over.  

"No!"  Yohji pounded his fist on the table, causing his coffee mug to jump and attracting stares from other patrons.  With a sigh, he rested his head in his hands.  "Why did this have to happen to me?" he moaned.  

Shoving his coffee aside -- it wasn't helping much anyways -- he stepped outside and looked up and down the sidewalk.  One way, to his right, was the hotel: secure, private, and peaceful.  The other way, left, was the bar he'd been to last night, which would be the most probable place to find Schuldig.  

Yohji turned right.  He needed to get his mind on something else.  He whistled at a few young girls who passed by, but his heart wasn't in it.  In his mind, all he could see was that red-haired bastard smirking as he shot at Omi and Aya, or kicking the crap out of Ken, or sprawling half-naked across his king-size bed…

The thought sent shivers through his entire body.  `That's it,' he thought, `No more of that!'

`Come on, Kudoh,' another part of him said, `You're probably just as lonely as he is.  He's gotta be pretty desperate, coming to you for help,'

`Fine,' his rational half agreed, `I'll let him stay.  _Temporarily_.  Just don't blame me if he ends up dead,'

Yohji spun on his heel, deciding to head for the bar to begin the search for Schuldig.  Luckily for him, he didn't have to go that far.  

The German, who had been following him closely, was surprised by Yohji's sudden stop.  He plowed right into him, sending Schuldig tumbling backwards.  "Oi, Kudoh," he whined, rubbing his bottom, "Don't you know not to spin around like that when you're being trailed?"

Without thinking, Yohji offered his hand to help the other man up.  "Don't you know not to whine when you're being offered a place to stay?" Yohji quipped.  

Schuldig looked stunned.  "Really?"  Quickly, he coughed and tried to change his expression to one of indifference.  "Ahem, yeah, I knew you'd change your mind."

Yohji just rolled his eyes and started walking back towards the hotel.  "Yeah, yeah."


	4. Just kiss and make up

*Author's note* I have nothing witty to say today.  I do not own any of Weiss Kreuz.

Yohji took a deep breath, trying to control the rage that was building up inside.  Storming into the living room, he ignored Schuldig's loud complaints as he shut the television off.  "We need to talk," he said slowly.

"What seems to be the problem, roomie?" the German asked, propping his feet up on the coffee table.

Yohji just sputtered for a moment, unable to form words in the face of Schuldig's brazen ignorance.  "This!" he cried at last, holding up one of his good shirts, which he had found balled up underneath his bed.  "You were wearing _my_ clothes!"

"Relax, Kudoh," Schuldig replied casually, "It's not like it was the first time, and besides, all mine are dirty."

"That's it," Yohji said, "I've put up with enough from you the past four days.  So either you stay here under my rules, which include not wearing my clothes, or you can go somewhere else.  Anywhere else."

Schuldig sighed dramatically and got to his feet.  "Isn't it a little early in our relationship for an ultimatum, Kudoh?"  He grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair and headed towards the door.

"What?  What `relationship'?" Yohji cried, following him, "There's no relationship!"

Schuldig paused at the door and looked back over his shoulder.  "You know what you need?" he asked, his usual smirk in place, "You need a night out.  My treat."

"Your…what?...you…UGH!"  Yohji threw the crumpled shirt across the room and slung his jacket over his shoulder, swearing that if both of them lived through the night, it would be a miracle.

                        *                                  *                                  *

It was miraculous how alcohol seemed to make all your little problems go away; or so Yohji thought as he sat at the little corner table, waiting for Schuldig to return with their next round.  Hell, after this many drinks, he was starting to think that maybe the German was an okay guy, after all.

"I can hear you, you know," the red-head stated as he slipped into the seat opposite the blonde.

Yohji frowned, wondering what else the telepath had `heard' over the past few days.

"Not much," the German grinned, "At least, nothing exciting."

Yohji glared across the table at him.  "Stop that."

"But you make it so much easier when you're drunk," Schuldig replied, leaning forward.  Yohji caught a quick glimpse of bare chest.  "It's a lot more interesting, too," the German added with a wink.

Yohji snorted and reached for a cigarette, hoping for an excuse to avoid further conversation, and also for a distraction, to keep him from thinking about something he might be made to regret later.  Thankfully, Schuldig hadn't asked him to dance again.

Yohji leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes, enjoying both his cigarette and the music.  It was some local band playing, and they weren't half bad.

He heard the sound of a chair scraping, and a leg brushed against his knee. "This place is good, huh?" Schuldig asked, beside him, "I'm glad I found it."  Yohji muttered something that could have passed for an agreement.

Schuldig sat quietly for a moment, eyeing Yohji carefully.  The wheels in his head had been turning all night, and he felt the time had come to put his plan into action.

Casually, he draped his arm over the back of Yohji's chair.  The blonde didn't even flinch.  "Kudoh," the German whispered.

"Mm-hmm?" Yohji responded, still not moving.

"Oi, Yohji!"  Schuldig reached across and grabbed the man's chin, turning his face towards him.

Yohji tensed, finally seeing what the German was up to.  His mouth went dry as he stared into Schuldig's blue-green eyes.  "Not here," he croaked, glancing around, "There's too many people…"  He was trying to find and exit, or at least stall for time, but his mind was working too slowly, and Schuldig seemed to have everything covered.

"They can't see us," the telepath explained, moving closer, "They don't even know we exist.  I could fuck you right here, right now, and they would never know."

Yohji tingled pleasurably at the images that sentence conjured up.

"Stop fighting," Schuldig whispered, his lips brushing Yohji's.

That was the final straw.  No matter how he tried, Yohji just couldn't resist any more.  Grabbing a fist full of red hair, he slammed their mouths together.  

Yohji felt his self-control slipping away as the kiss continued, and his neck started to ache from being bent at such an awkward angle.  Without taking his lips from Schuldig's, he swung himself around so he straddled the other man.

Schuldig purred as he moved his hands up under Yohji's shirt, feeling his hard, washboard abs.  Yohji's hands strayed from the copper tresses, down Schuldig's sides, coming to rest on his hips.  The smooth, silky feel of his pants felt somehow familiar.

"You're wearing my pants?" Yohji cried, shoving himself off the man's lap.  

Schuldig looked up at him playfully.  "I could take them off, if you'd like," he offered.  

"You're unbelievable," Yohji muttered, sitting back in his chair.  

Schuldig snorted, disappointed.  This was _not_ going the way he had hoped.  

                        *                                  *                                  *

The bar was emptying out; they'd be closing soon.  Schuldig still sat at the little table in the back corner of the room sulking, and God only knew where Yohji had gotten to.  He'd said he was going to the bar for a drink, but that had been a good two hours ago.  Schuldig was just wondering if he should head back to the hotel when the tall blonde seemed to materialize in front of him.  He was panting hard and soaked with sweat, obviously having spent a good while on the dance floor.  

"Did you have a good time?" Schuldig sneered.  

"Actually, yes," Yohji replied, sounding less drunk than the German had expected.  

Schuldig snorted.  "Well, I'm outta here," he said, grabbing his jacket.

"Wait a minute," Yohji called, reaching for his as well, "I'm coming, too."

Just then, a female voice said, "Hey, you guys!"  Yohji turned to see a fairly attractive young woman, her dark hair hanging loosely over one side of her face.  She looked vaguely familiar…

"You're those two from the plane, right?" she asked, flashing a smile.

That's where he'd seen her!  "You're that stewardess!" Yohji stated, "Tammy, right?"

Schuldig bumped him out of the way with his shoulder.  "Tora," he corrected, offering his hand to the girl.  

'Cheater', Yohji thought, 'He probably pulled that straight out of her head.'

//_Better than making a fool of myself_,// Schuldig's voice sounded in his mind, making Yohji jump.

"My name is Schuldig," he was saying to the girl, Tora, "And that one is Yohji."  He motioned towards the other man with his eyes.  

"Oh, uh, nice to meet you," Yohji offered his hand awkwardly.  

Tora just smiled again.  "Maybe we'll see each other around.  I'm in town for another week or so.  Well, it's nice to see that you two have kissed and made up, at least."  She waved goodbye to them as her and her friends left.

Yohji ran a hand over his eyes.  'You have no idea,' he thought, ironically.


	5. A night to forget

*Author's note*  Blah blah, not mine, yadda yadda…you get the message.  Anyways, thanks a bunch to those of you who reviewed!!!  It gave me warm tinglies in my tummy.  And I apologize for the delay in getting this chapter up, but school's been crazy lately…and when I say crazy, I mean crazy enough that someone who _IS _crazy can see that it's crazy.

Yohji stood in the doorway to his bedroom, sipping at a cup of hot tea.  It was almost morning, and he still hadn't gotten to sleep.  He watched Schuldig as he slept, and he wondered, not for the first time, what sort of game the German was playing with him.  

Also, he wondered if he really minded being played around with.  'Well, I certainly didn't mind earlier,' he thought with a sardonic smirk, remembering -- for the most part anyway -- the way Schuldig had manipulated him into the kiss.  Without meaning to, he licked his lips, remembering the taste.

Schuldig stirred, and Yohji stepped soundlessly back around the corner into his room; out of sight, but keeping an eye on the red-head through the crack beside the door.  When he didn't move again, Yohji ventured a step into the living room.  

There was no denying it: he found the man attractive -- if not downright sexy -- and it was only the rational part of his brain that seemed to have any problem with his current situation.

'Bah, leave the rational thinking to Aya, or Omi,' he thought at last, stepping closer to the back of the couch and setting his cup down quietly on the table, 'They're better at it anyway.'  Slowly and carefully, he reached his hand down to touch the cheek of the German, who seemed to be slumbering peacefully again.  

Suddenly, the red-head hurled himself off the couch to his knees with a choked, sobbing sound, breathing hard and with both hands pressed tightly over his ears as if to keep out a noise only he could hear.  

Without thinking, Yohji leaped over the back of the couch and threw his arms around Schuldig's heaving shoulders.  "What is it?  What just happened?" he asked, his tone conveying his concern as much as his expression.

"You don't want to know," Schuldig whispered hoarsely, leaning his head on the blonde's chest and squeezing his eyes shut, trying to rid himself of the flashing images and the gut-wrenching terror that had wrenched him from his sleep.  A moment later, sirens could be heard not far off.  "There are worse monsters out there than me, Kudoh," he added.

Yohji shuddered involuntarily as memories came to him of things he'd seen the Mastermind do.  He didn't want to imagine worse.

"Shhh, it'll…be ok," Yohji said weakly, not sure exactly how he should respond.

Schuldig gave a sort of chuckle.  "Oh yes, my knight in shining armor," he said dryly.  

"Hey, well…I'm trying here," Yohji shot back, hugging the man closer.  He closed his eyes and rested his chin on the mass of flaming red hair.  Soon, the sirens faded and Schuldig's breathing returned to normal.  

He glanced down to find that the German was already half-asleep again.  Smiling faintly, he stood up, pulling Schuldig with him, who was glaring back blearily at having been disturbed again.  "Let's get you back to bed," Yohji said, putting an arm about the other man's waist.  

Schuldig didn't even notice that Yohji was leading him away from the couch, and back towards the bedroom.

                        *                                  *                                  *

The first thing Schuldig felt as he woke up the next morning -- or, early afternoon, as it was -- was confusion.  He remembered coming home last night from the bar and falling asleep in the living room, but here he was, in Yohji's room, in Yohji's bed, with half of Yohji draped across him.  

Slowly, the night's events filtered their way back into his memory: the screams, the sirens, Yohji putting him to bed….  

Looking over at the blonde, he let out a disappointed little sigh.  He was still wearing what he had worn to bed, and Yohji had only removed his shirt.  Obviously, he hadn't missed anything of any interest.  He smirked to himself.  Maybe there was still a chance that he could liven things up a bit.

"Yohji," he whispered softly, gently tugging the man's mind back towards consciousness.  With his free hand -- the one the blonde didn't have pinned beneath him -- he brushed a wayward strand of hair from the sleeping man's face.  "Yohji," he whispered again, and this time the emerald eyes fluttered open.

Yohji propped himself up on his elbow, careful not to move too quickly.  His years of experience bar-hopping had taught him that much, at least.  "Did you sleep okay?" he asked, the end of the question getting lost in a yawn.  

"Yeah, I guess," the German replied, keeping his voice low to keep from agitating the headache he knew the blonde was trying to ignore.

Yohji gave him a questioning look.  "But what about--"

"Those sorts of things are difficult to block out when you are sleeping," Schuldig explained, dismissing it with a wave of his hand, "And it's rarely as bad as _that_ was," He was unable to stop a slight shiver from running through him.  "Anyway, it's past now, and I won't be disturbing you further."  He sat up and swung his legs off the bed before Yohji had a chance to move.  The timing of this was crucial…

He was just making as if to rise when Yohji spoke.  "You're…not disturbing me," 

Schuldig peered back over his shoulder with a look he hoped looked surprised, and not at all devious.  Yes, his plan was working.  

He let Yohji pull him back onto the bed, and didn't protest when the man nuzzled into the German's shoulder.  "I take this to mean you've reached a decision, then?" he asked, trying to sound casual.

Yohji lifted his head to stare into his blue-green eyes.  "You've known my thoughts this whole time haven't you?"  He sounded slightly accusing, but who could blame him?

"Just say it, Kudoh," Schuldig prodded, trying to hide his smirk, "We both need to hear it."

"No, I won't give you that satisfaction," Yohji replied, playing his only card.  He lowered his mouth onto the German's, shifting his body so that he was pressing himself against the other man's thigh.  Schuldig gasped as his lower lip was caught between Yohji's teeth; his hands roamed over the hardened muscles of the man's shoulders, pulling him even closer.

Finally, everything was going perfectly.  He was in control now, and nothing could stop him.  Nothing--

_RING!  RING!_

--except the God-damned telephone.  Yohji jumped over him and raced into the living room, nearly knocking over the lamp as he grabbed for the receiver.  "Hello?" he answered breathlessly.

"Yohji-kun!" Omi's cheerful voice exclaimed, "I thought you would already be up!  How is everything?"

Yohji didn't even bother to respond.  "Listen, I can't really talk right now--"

"Who the fuck is it?" Schuldig whined from the bedroom, wondering who he could blame for the rude interruption.

"Who was that?" Omi asked, "I heard a voice!  Yohji?  You have someone staying with you?"

"I'll call you back." Yohji muttered, slamming down the phone.  The kid had to have the worst timing in the world.


End file.
